


But please, remember me (fondly)

by 2spooky4u



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angel Castiel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Gay Love Story, Bunker Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Men of Letters Headquarters, Protective Sam Winchester, Sad Castiel, Sad Dean, Season 09 AU, Season/Series 09, love is not easy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 02:58:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2spooky4u/pseuds/2spooky4u
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I have to leave," Castiel tells him, laying in bed after sex one night, curled up to Dean's bare chest. It is so sudden that Dean freezes, his breath snagged somewhere between his lungs and the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But please, remember me (fondly)

I. 

 

"I have to leave," Castiel tells him, laying in bed after sex one night, curled up to Dean's bare chest. It is so sudden that Dean freezes, his breath snagged somewhere between his lungs and the room. 

 

"Leave?" Dean repeats dumbly. He can already feel his chest constricting, the pain and ache and tightness threatening to overwhelm him. Drown him. 

 

"I have to fix what I have done," Cas says quietly, tracing patterns on Dean's chest as he breathes in, breathes out, breathes in. 

 

"Yeah," Dean replies, monotone. 

 

He inches out of Cas's embrace, curling onto his side, his back to the angel (he's an angel again, how had Dean been so damn stupid as to think-)

 

"I'm sorry," 

 

"Fuck you,"

 

"Dean,"

 

Dean doesn't respond. He paces his breaths so that Cas will think he is asleep. After (minutes?) an hour or so, Castiel sighs deeply and tries to press their bodies together again, but Dean jerks away, recoiling, dropping the charade of unconsciousness. 

 

"Sleep, Dean," Cas says, and Dean wants to scream at him, tell him where exactly he can shove that pity lacing his tone-

 

But Cas, the bastard, touches his neck, just beneath his hairline, so gently, and then Dean is asleep. 

 

 

He awakens in the morning feeling cold. It takes him a minute or two to realize that Cas is gone. 

 

 

II. 

 

"Where's Cas?" Sam asks at breakfast. Dean stiffens. 

 

"Not here anymore."

 

Sam flinches. Dean jabs his bacon angrily into the yellow yolk of his rather jaundiced fried egg. It ruptures, and the harsh neon goo glorps out. 

 

"He going to come back?"

 

"He better not."

 

Sam can tell, then, that Cas left Dean again. His chest aches for his older brother; Dean had so much trouble letting his walls down for the resolute fear of abandonment, and Cas was the first real one; he knew about the hunting and knew about Dean and he left.

 

 

III. 

 

Dean forgets how to eat. 

 

"Fuck off, Sammy, I'm not hungry."

 

Sam catches him every once in a while staring down at his cell phone, face so full of raw longing that his heart clenches. He can only imagine what this must be like for Dean. 

 

No, he can imagine, and her name is Jessica. 

 

For a moment, he thinks, Dean's lucky, because Castiel is still alive, but maybe it's worse. 

 

Jess didn't choose to go away. 

 

 

IV. 

 

Dean?

 

Cas is that you?

 

I miss you, Dean

 

don't you have shit you need to be fixing

 

 

V. 

 

Dean. 

 

Dean. 

 

Dean, is this still your cell phone number?

 

Dean, please. 

 

I can only assume you've changed phones. 

 

Can I keep texting you anyway?

 

I miss you. Every day. 

 

I can't see you; the bunker is too guarded. I used to watch over you, make sure you were okay, but I never told you for fear of being 'creepy'. 

 

I almost wish you'd go on a hunt so I could see you again. 

 

I just killed seven of my brothers. It hurts so badly. I thought maybe when I was an angel again I'd stop feeling so much. But I'd rather have felt you for a second even if it meant feeling all of the pain in the world forevermore. 

 

One of my brothers found work in a Biggerson's. He offered me a cheese burger. It wasn't nearly as good as the ones you made. 

 

I love you. 

 

I wish I had said it out loud. Maybe it's better that I never did. 

 

I wish I had been born a human an we'd met at a coffee shop. 

 

I miss you. 

 

I'm sorry. 

 

You probably hate me by now. 

 

I don't hate you. 

 

Dean?

 

I probably should. But I don't. 

 

 

VI. 

 

Sam finds Dean's phone one day, left behind in a motel room. He can't help it; he needs to read the messages. Dean has been closed off and distant. Sam's not stupid. He knows that his brother finally made a move on Cas, soon after he regained his mojo. (How did he even do that?) 

 

He shuts the phone, startled, after Cas says that he never told Dean that he loved him in person. His chest aches again for his brother's sake. It's been doing that a lot. 

 

"Are you coming, Sammy?" Dean says, hands on the door frame, leaning halfway into the room. Sam jumps and obscures the phone from Dean's sight. He realizes that Dean must have left the phone on purpose, and through some unconscious decision, not wholly his, Sam places the phone in his pocket. 

 

"Sorry. Zoned out," the younger Winchester offers in lieu of explanation. 

 

 

VII. 

 

Sam watches, helpless, as his brother sinks into his old drunkenness. 

 

He remembers the purloined cell phone only when he wears the same shirt again. He's monumentally thankful for the fact that he didn't send it through the washing machine. 

 

One night, they're out drinking, and to his surprise Sam isn't the one broaching the subject they have been skirting around for months. 

 

"I didn't kick him out, you know," Dean says offhandedly, waving his empty beer bottle vaguely heavenwards. 

 

"Castiel?" Sam asks, faking dumb for reasons unclear. 

 

"No, the Quaker oatmeal dude," Dean says, rolling his eyes. Sam almost laughs at the sophomoric retort but the subject matter is far too sore to be irritated further. 

 

"What happened?" Sam asks. He's pretty sure he has an idea: Dean and Cas hooked up, Dean was overjoyed while it lasted, Cas left and Dean had his heart torn out and tossed away. 

 

"Also, I might be a tiny bit bisexual," Dean says, hiccuping out a little laugh. 

 

"Ooookay." Sam raises an eyebrow. 

 

"For Cas I mean. Not any other guy. No offense."

 

"Dude. Really? Come on," Sam says, rolling his eyes. 

 

"Yeah. I only ever slept with him. Nobody else."

 

"Okay, T. M. I." Sam sighs and runs a hand through his long hair. "So you were saying.....?"

 

"He left me, Sammy," Dean says. "I didn't kick him out."

 

"I know you didn't. You love him too much."

 

"I never told him." Dean buries his head in his hands. "Do you think that's why he left?"

 

"Dean....…"

 

Damn it. Cas needed to fix this or Sam would kill him himself. 

 

VIII.

 

"Dean?" Cas's voice is so fucking hopeful on the other end of the phone that Sam's heart twinges. He shoves the feeling down, though. Cas kind of deserves it. Leaving Dean so soon after he had let him through his fortified walls was a major dick move. 

 

"It's Sam."

 

"Oh."

 

Sam can almost feel Cas's disappointment. 

 

"Dean is.....Cas, you broke his fucking heart." Sam tries his damnedest to not sound accusing. 

 

"I.....I had to leave, Sam. It hurt me too."

 

That's it. 

 

"No, Cas, you didn't have to do anything. You don't get to feel hurt. Do you know how many people he's let grow close to him? There've been, like, half a dozen. At most. You're the first he's ever let himself fall for. And after what you did, you're probably the last."

 

"Sam, I....."

 

"And the worst part of it is? The worst part of it is that he'd let you do it again."

 

"Sam, I'm almost finished."

 

"Finished with what, exactly?" Sam huffs. 

 

"Fixing everything. I can come home soon."

 

"So what, so that you can- can seduce Dean into trusting you again? And then leave?"

 

There is a long time where neither party dares to speak. 

 

"I love him, Sam, and I'd never leave again if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

 

 

IX. 

 

'Soon' turns out to be three weeks later. There's an alarm at about three thirty in the morning, notifying the brothers that someone is trying to materialize inside of the bunker. Dean yells a string of explicatives in the general direction of Sam's room and tells him in no uncertain terms that he isn't getting up. 

 

Sam checks the alarms, watching the figure captured by the security cameras. The image is blurry but something about that coat lets him know that it's Castiel. 

 

"Sa-"

 

With a sploosh, Sam covers his entire head with holy water. He glares, but there's no fire behind the look. And if Sam cuts him a little harder than is perhaps necessary, it's nobody's business but his own. 

 

"Dean?" Sam says tentatively. Castiel is trapped in a ring of holy fire down in the main room, a precaution the angel had accepted with no resistance. 

 

"I'm asleep, Sam," Dean shouts. 

 

"You should come see this," 

 

"It had better be fucking Santa Claus,"

 

"Even better."

 

Dean reluctantly gets up and follows Sam into the main room. Sam subtly slinks away. 

 

"Cas?" Dean breathes. 

 

"Hello, Dean," Castiel says, his face lighting up like it's his sixteenth birthday and he just saw the coolest new sports car in the  driveway. 

 

Dean's heart stutters and stops before his overjoy is eclipsed by anger. 

 

"I'm going back to bed."

 

 

X. 

 

Cas is still in the burning ring of fire when Sam gets up the next morning. He's sitting cross-legged, picking at the hem of his coat in a very puerescent display of anxiety. 

 

"Let me guess, it didn't go over well," Sam sighs. Cas's blue eyes gaze at him with such guilt and anguish that he relents, blotting out a few inches of fire. Cas gingerly steps through the gap, choosing not to teleport like he usually does. The gap isn't bid enough and it injures him. 

 

"Go talk to Dean," Sam sighs. Cas looks at him like a lost puppy. 

 

"He hates me."

 

"Well, you did leave him for- uurgh. Never mind. He isn't going to talk to you if you don't reach out to him. I know you're both allergic to it-"

 

"What if he shoots me?" Cas wonders idly, not really aimed at Sam but hitting him anyway. 

 

"He still loves you, Cas."

 

 

XI. 

 

Dean ignores him for two days until he gets startled one morning. 

 

"Fucking Christ, Cas, bell. You need one."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

It's unclear for what he's apologizing. 

 

"Whatever," Dean grumbles. 

 

"I bought donuts," Cas offers, handing Dean a bag and taking a step back. Dean takes it before he realizes that he's effectively engaged in contact with the angel. 

 

"Better be some chocolate ones," Dean grunts. 

 

"I got one of every kind. I didn't know what you want."

 

"What the hell are we going to do with-" Dean checks the bag- "eighteen donuts?"

 

"I'm sorry. I got too many," Cas says, dismayed. "I can give the rest to orphans in Nepal." 

 

Dean sighs, because it's becoming increasingly hard to begrudge someone who's so damn good hearted. 

 

"Just let Sammy eat one first."

 

"He told me not to get him one. Trans fats or something."

 

"More for the orphans, I suppose," Dean shrugs. 

 

 

XII. 

 

Over the next few weeks, Cas is never away from the bunker for more than a few minutes, but he gives Dean a wide berth. The hunter finds little gifts around. He wants to resent them, but they're so thoughtful, not like things an average dude might get someone. There's a gorgeous geode, filled with spectacular hues of green and purple. There's an ancient manuscript, written by hand tens of hundreds of years ago, filled with beautiful illustrations of Tibetan myths. There's a special kind of mustard from Europe and a bouquet of feathers in every color of the rainbow and then some. 

 

The way Cas looks at him sometimes, it's like a devoted child and eventually it hurts too much to push him away. 

 

But that doesn't mean Dean has to lead him closer. 

 

 

XIII. 

 

Dean automatically prays for Cas when he's about to have his neck snapped. There's a flash of light and the thing is literally smoking, its eyes charred black pits. 

 

"Hi," Cas says, looking like he's damn proud of himself but too scared to show it lest he be trodding upon some social etiquette thing. 

 

"Cas." Dean coughs. "Nice of you to show up."

 

 

XIV. 

 

For some reason, Cas chooses not to just zap him all better. 

 

No, Castiel has to sit behind him on the bed, hands grazing over naked skin, raising goosebumps, soothing as he leisurely heals each cut with the slide of his thumb.  

 

Dean's eyes are closed as he leans into the warm touch. God, how he has missed human (sort of) contact. Cas's hands are just so full of comfort that he allows himself the greedy indulgence. 

 

"I love you," Cas breathes, so close to him, head bent to almost rest on Dean's shoulder. It's nothing short of a benediction and Dean feels himself reaching up to caress the side of Cas's face.

 

"I missed you," he says when the power of speech returns to him. Cas presses his lips to Dean's neck, soft and chaste, breathing him in.

 

"Let me back in," he begs. 

 

"When you leave again, I will never move on," Dean responds, allowing the arms that have slipped around his naked torso. He leans his head back against Castiel. 

 

"Then I had better not leave," Cas says, kissing Dean's ear delicately. 

 

"Promise?" Dean breathes. He's already lost. 

 

"There's nothing left for me to fix."

 

"So you'll stay?"

 

"As long as you'll have me."

 

Dean opens his eyes, twisting his head slightly to meet Cas's gaze. He maintains eye contact for a long time, and Cas finally looks away, nervous, and starts to move his arms back until Dean grabs his hands and captures his lips. 

 

"I love you too," he says. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I need more SPN immediately r u listenin Santa Claus


End file.
